I have eaten bear sashimi at a mind-altering party at a Sake-ya, near Komatsu in western Japan. It was shot in the local mountains the day before. It was served to me by one of the last male Geisha's, trained in the old school ways. The original geisha's were male, I was told, but few if any remain. The sashimi was served as frozen medallions of fat with a crescent of meat. When I saw the sparkling platters emerge to the gasp of the attendees, I thought it was some kind of marzipan. Then I put it in my mouth. I will remember the bear, but the fragrance of the local, wild Matsutake mushrooms and the texture and delicacy of the tofu served were far more memorable than the shock of the marzipan, or rather - "Oh shit - it's fucking raw bear!"
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Date: 2009-12-05 04:46 am (UTC)